


What's done cannot be undone

by Athenaskywriter



Category: Peaky Blinders (TV)
Genre: F/M, Guilt, Head Injury, Hurt Tommy Shelby, Hurt/Comfort, Polly feels, Season/Series 03
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-19
Updated: 2020-06-19
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:55:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24808870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Athenaskywriter/pseuds/Athenaskywriter
Summary: Set between 3x04 and 3x05: Polly’s thoughts when Tommy’s in the hospital after having collapsed at Ada's.
Relationships: Ada Shelby & Tommy Shelby, Grace Burgess/Tommy Shelby, Polly Gray & Tommy Shelby
Comments: 5
Kudos: 40





	What's done cannot be undone

She was never going to drink again. Drinking was for idiots who had nothing better to do than spend the rest of the fucking day lying around in their office and trying to remember what the hell they did yesterday. Trying and failing in Polly’s case. She sighed, abandoning any attempt she may have in catching up on some paperwork, and took a cigarette from her silver box.

She was still fumbling with her lighter when she heard the ringing of the phone situated at the extreme right side of her wooden desk. Groaning quietly as the sound did nothing to help her pounding headache, she entertained the idea to just ignore it for a second before grabbing the receiver.

“Yes,” she answered curtly, still trying to lit her fucking cigarette.

The person, which she guessed was a woman, at the other side of the line exhaled shakily and stifled what strangely sounded like a sob. Polly raised an eyebrow and stopped her effort for a short instant. Now wasn’t that an interesting phone call? Who did the boys beat up now? Perhaps, they broke this girl’s heart? Partly her fault for believing in whatever nonsense she had cooked up in her own head.

“Aunt Pol…” started a voice that appeared to be Ada’s. Polly frowned and leaned slightly against her desk in anticipation to the bad news that she expected to receive. She waited a few more seconds for her niece to continue before losing patience, unnerved by the gasps she could still hear.

“Ada? What is it?” She asked to prompt the young woman to get going.

“Aunt Pol… You need to come to London. I’m… I’m in the hospital.”

Polly drew a breath and opened her mouth to ask what happened but Ada seemed to read her mind and added quickly:

“I’m fine. I’m fine. But, Tommy…” She choked down another sob. “They don’t know if he’ll pull through, Polly.”

The lighter in her hand hit the desk with a thud. She took a few seconds to regain her bearings before asking with a voice as plain as she could:

“What happened, Ada?”

“I don’t bloody know! He… He just turned up at the house, half dead, barely walking to talk to a contact I had at the Russian embassy before collapsing on my stairs, telling me to take him to the hospital because he couldn’t fucking see and promptly passing out on my floor!” Ada answered hotly.

Yet, Polly knew that Ada’s anger was just masking her terror at seeing her big brother in such a state and her despair at the idea that she might lose him. Now, what state that was was another business entirely. As if on cue, her niece sniffled loudly.

“Ada, I need you to concentrate. What is wrong with him?” She asked quietly, soothingly as if she was comforting a frightened horse.

“He’s got… a fractured skull, severe concussion and internal bleeding. He had a…. A fit. Pol, he haemorrhaged.”

Polly felt her heart stop for a moment. She closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead with her free hand before taking a few shaky breaths.

“Fuck.”

“Pol… He’s in there, now. They’re operating on him. I tried to convince them that they had to do everything they could and they promised they would but… Aunt Pol, they’re saying that he may not pull through and even if he does… Pol, we don’t know what he will be when he wakes up. If he wakes up. He may never wake up, Pol. Even he does, he may never see again. Or walk again. Or… You need to come. I don’t know what to do. I…”

Now that Ada had started, she didn’t seem to be able to stop. With each words that escaped her lips, Polly could physically feel her chest getting tighter and tighter until there was almost no room to breathe anymore.

“Ada… Ada, stop. I’m coming. I’m coming, alright. I’m taking the car, right now and I’ll be there in a few hours.”

Polly tried to keep her voice calm and steady. Ada was panicking enough for the both of them. She reassured her, one more time, that she was coming and got the hospital’s address before cutting the line and letting her head drop against the furniture.

Tommy and her had a complex relationship, to say the least. She used to be able to read him perfectly but ever since he had gotten back from the war, he was a complete stranger. They had all changed after the war, of course, but Tommy had come back stronger than ever and yet, more broken than ever. When he left, he was a kind and happy although remarkably intelligent boy. He came back a cold and ruthless although still remarkably intelligent man. He became a man difficult to love.

Yet, Polly remembered the boy. The little boy who used to hide from his father in her room when he came back drunk from the pub. The little boy who spent all his time with horses and dreamt of working with them. The young boy who loved Greta Jurossi and stayed at her side until her last breath. The young boy who assumed a burden too heavy for his frail shoulders and helped her get through the loss of her children. She loved that boy.

And despite everything, she still loved that man. And that man was dying. She didn’t get any formal education but if there was one thing she was well-versed in, it was the art of violence. She knew how dangerous head injuries were. She had seen men wake up after a head trauma without any memory of who they were. That was the lucky scenario. Most of them didn’t wake up at all. She pressed her palms against her eyes sockets, giving in an unusual display of despair. Just for a moment. A moment where none was around to see her. Then, she raised her head and fixed her hair before getting up to someone to prepare her car.

Her task accomplished, she sat back on her comfortable chair and dialled Arthur’s number. Biting nervously her lip, she waited for him to pick up. After a few instants of silence, she slammed back the receiver in frustration and grabbed a piece of paper and a pen.

She was just closing the envelope when the boy charged with the preparation of her car knocked at the door.

“Your car is ready, ma’am.”

She nodded and grabbed her coat and hat. Passing in front of him, she gave him the letter where the new events were narrated in the most clinical way she could manage.

“Give that to Arthur or John when they get back. Do anything else or forget about it and you’ll regret it,” she told him calmly but the threat hanging clearly in the air.

The boy visibly swallowed and nodded frenetically before running away. In usual circumstances, she may have felt slightly bad for the kid but those were nothing but normal circumstances, eh? She reached her car and the driver opened the door for her. She couldn’t shake this overwhelming sense of dread that tightened her chest and rested at the bottom of her stomach. She sighed as the car began to move under her. Tommy had to be alright. They needed him.

A few hours after the phone call, her car pulled over in front of a posh and private hospital. The only sight of it eased some of the concern she had. This hospital took care of rich people. Society didn’t let rich people die. Tommy was gonna be fine. More than fine if she had a word to say in this matter. Everything was going to be fine. She reminded herself that they weren’t at the bottom of society anymore. They had money and influence. They could afford the best hospital in the country. They didn’t have to take care of their wounded on the kitchen table anymore

She took off her hat and entered the building and confidently walk to the front desk.

“I’m looking for Thomas Shelby,” she informed the nurse behind the desk.

The latter barely raised her head from her piece of paper and the momentarily stillness of her pen was the only hint that she had heard her.

“Who are you? What is your relationship to Mr Shelby?” She inquired, at last.

“I’m his aunt. Elizabeth Gray, formerly Shelby.” She reached inside her coat and took out a slightly rumpled business card that she presented to the woman.

The latter looked at it briefly before giving it back with a slight smile. She took a look at another piece of paper and indicated:

“Take the corridor on your left and then right. Room 12, Mrs Gray.”

Polly nodded and followed the directions. The hospital was dimly lit and only then did Polly realise that it was almost early morning. Ada must have called her around midnight. It was no wonder that Arthur had not picked up the phone. She reached the end of the corridor and took a right turn, immediately spotting Ada who was sitting in a chair in front of what was, presumably, Tommy’s room.

The poor girl appeared crushed. Her shoulders were slumped and her head rested in her palms. Getting closer, Polly noticed that her clothes were stained by dark-brown spots. Dried blood. Tommy’s blood. Hearing the sound of her heels on the cold floor, Ada raised her head and turned her head in Polly’s direction. Watching her face light up at her sight was almost painful to see and an instant later, Ada rushed towards her and hugged her ferociously.

“Aunt Pol! Thank you for coming!” She exclaimed.

Polly could not help but smile at her and brush a strand of her from her forehead. Ada’s eyes were red and puffy and Polly could not miss the dark shadows underneath her blue eyes. Polly cupped her cheek for a few seconds before guiding her back to the chair.

“How is he?” She asked, immediately.

Her niece sighed and closed her eyes, passing a hand through her hair.

“The operation went fine. He should make it but…” She hesitated for a second. “We don’t know the consequences of the injury, yet. It wasn’t supposed to be that serious but apparently, the bloody idiot when to do business for a day rather than go straight to a hospital.”

Polly raised her eyebrows. That did sound like the Thomas Shelby she knew. She exhaled in relief even though she knew that she shouldn’t scream victory too early. Tommy may make it but it didn’t mean that he would be fine. One step at a time. Living was a beginning. They could handle the rest later. She nodded both for herself and Ada’s sake and took the young woman’s hand in her own.

“Ada, go home for a few hours. Sleep for a bit and go see Karl. I’ll stay here and call you if needed, alright?”

Ada shook her head frenetically and looked up to meet her eye.

“No, I can’t, Pol. What if something happens?” She looked so terrified that Polly squeezed her hand a little tighter to comfort her.

“Then, you won’t be able to do anything. Especially not dead on your feet. You got him this far. Now let me do the rest.”

Ada looked into her eyes for a few seconds, looking for something. Polly met her gaze, trying to convey as much reassurance and confidence as she could. Ada finally nodded and raised tiredly from her chair. She hugged her one more time and bit her lip nervously.

“Call me, Pol. You don’t know how scary it was. Seeing him struggling to talk and walk and spilling blood and brain on the furniture.”

Polly closed her eyes and pictured Tommy passed out on Ada’s floor, barely breathing and telling her, with an abnormal hint of panic in his voice, that he couldn’t see.

“I know. I know, Ada. I’ll call you. I promise.”

Ada nodded one last time and left reluctantly. Polly sighed and took her chair, guarding loyally the door.

She must have fallen asleep because when she opened her eyes, the sun was shining brightly behind the closed windows. She looked around to understand the cause of her awakening and sawa doctor exiting Tommy’s room. Sensing her gaze, the doctor looked at her and smiled slightly.

“The danger has passed. He will live. You may see him if you wish to.”

Polly exhaled and stood up quickly, grabbing her coat and flashing a brief smile at the doctor. She opened silently the door, as if afraid to wake Tommy up if she was too loud, and entered the room. As soon as she saw him, numb shock invaded her and she dropped her coat on the floor before kneeling shakily next to the still form on the bed. Her hands hovered over his body, not knowing what to do before carefully, slowly grabbing his hand as if she was reaching for a broken glass that may disintegrate at the smallest shock.

He did appear to be so, at least. He had never been very tanned but his pale skin was almost translucent and contrasted heavily with his dark hair and the bruises on his skin. She longed to brush the locks away from his face but she could not. She could not because Tommy’s head was entrapped between metal bars, like a butterfly whose wings were pinned to a frame. She swallowed down some bile that threatened to leave her body and brought her lips to his hand. She expected it to be cold like a corpse but it wasn’t. It wasn’t overwhelmingly hot either. An in-between between warm life and cold death. A perfect metaphor for Tommy’s state.

Her niece and nephews used to be everything for her. She considered them her own even before the loss of Michael and Anna and she knew they used to consider her a parent when they were children. It was no wonder with their father being a drunk bastard and their mother a crazy addict. She considered them her own but there was always a special link between her and Tommy even long after the moment where he turned into the ruthless gang leader.

If she had to guess, it was because in a certain way they were the same and in another they completed each other. They were both the smart ones in the family, ready to do whatever was necessary. They were both organised and had a contingency for everything. They recognised each other’s abilities and they respected and trusted each other. She was the only one who had a voice in his plans, even though she knew that he would probably do whatever he wanted to and he was the only she trusted to lead this family. Yet, as she had said before, to Grace, Tommy may be in charge of the business of money but the business of the heart was hers.

Grace Burgess, or Grace Shelby to be more accurate. This woman was the perfect example to illustrate her earlier point. Tommy would do anything he wanted to despite any warnings she may give. Even marry a former spy who had betrayed him, caused the death of Danny Whizz-Bang, was responsible for him being shot and for losing the trust of his family. She didn’t like Grace but she had to admit that she had been good for Tommy. In the two years they were together, Polly had seen Tommy become softer, kinder. She had seen changing back to the man he used to be before the trauma of the war. Then, Grace had made the ultimate betrayal she could have done. She had taken a bullet meant for Tommy. She died so that Tommy didn’t have to and they went back to square one, even took a few steps behind. Tommy was a rational being but he wasn’t well-connected to his emotions. He pushed them away, pretended they didn’t exist. He didn’t let himself grieve and it was no wonder that he ended up in a hospital bed for his efforts.

She observed his limp form with piercing eyes. Now that he wasn’t moving and rushing around, she noticed the depth of the bags under his eyes. He wasn’t sleeping. He also seemed to have lost weight, not that he had any in reserve to begin with. She sighed and mentally chastised herself. She should have seen it sooner and done something about it. She knew that he wasn’t a child anymore but sometimes he acted like one. Not taking care of himself, for example. Tommy was going to wake up. He was going to be heal and be fine and the moment he was fully conscious, Polly was going to yell at him for being an idiot. That was what was going to happen and, irrationally, this stupid silent plan brought her comfort.

It turned out that she was partly right. The next few days were spent in a haze. Ada and Polly took turns sitting with Tommy. At some point, the boys came to visit but left quickly, uncomfortable with the notion of their unconscious brother on the bed. Polly understood it. She knew that they loved each other deeply but emotions were not their strong suit. They cared, they were worried but they didn’t know what to do. So, she let it slip. Days passed and Tommy was not waking up. Ada was constantly fidgeting, distress written clearly on her face. Polly was constantly lashing out at the staff. They were both afraid. Days passed and Tommy was not waking up, until the day he did.

Polly was the one sitting with him when it happened. She was reading aloud if only to break the silence in the room that made her uneasy when she saw his fingers twitch. She held her breath, reluctant at the idea of giving herself a false hope until she saw his eyelashes flicker and crack open, revealing icy, unfocused eyes. She exhaled a shaky breath and grabbed his hand.

“Thomas?” She asked quietly.

He turned his gaze towards her and Polly knew she should be relieved. He was awake. He wasn’t paralysed if the slight movement of his fingers were any indication and he had heard her. She knew she should be relieved but she couldn’t. She couldn’t because Tommy’s eyes were looking straight through her. No hint of recognition, he didn’t even seem to see her at all. Their eyes met for a heartbeat before he closed them once again as if none of this had happened at all.

Except it had happened and each new day would bring a small wonder. He would be conscious a few more minutes. He would recognise Ada at some point. He would get free from those horrible metal bars. He would smile faintly when Charlie was brought to him. He would talk. Small confused, unsure syllables at first but growing to more confident with each passing day and Polly could feel her heart burst.

Of course, everything wasn’t fine. He was constantly in pain and sometimes would not see anyone, would not even be able to handle any light or noise. It hurt to see him this way and Polly would have give anything to take this pain away from him. He still hadn’t told anyone what had happened.

One day, she was walking towards the hospital when she was confronted to the familiar figure of a priest. Walking past him, she, nevertheless, slowed her pace to allow him to catch up with her.

“Mrs Gray, what a pleasure! Tell me, how is your dear nephew? His prompt recovery is constantly in my prayers,” began Father Hughes with a slight sinister smile on his face.

Polly ignored him. He was trying to make her loose control. It was a game and one she was not about to lose.

“I’ve heard that his injuries were quite severe, indeed. I’m afraid that it was partly my fault. You know, my men were soldiers in India. They’re known to be very vicious.”

Polly paused for a moment, trying to keep the shock away from her face. She felt a hot surge of anger at his words. He was the reason for Tommy’s gruesome injuries. The reason why they had spent so much time in terror of losing him. She would like nothing more than to blow his face to hell with the gun she kept in her purse. She didn’t. Instead, she opted for silence. If the man wanted to rub his actions in her face, better to let him get on with it.

“In my defence, he was trying to kill me so I imagine I was entitled in a certain way. We never meant to kill him. Just to teach him a small lesson.”

He stayed silence for a few seconds before adding with a growing smile:

“But, tell me, Mrs Gray, do you want to know how I knew that he would try to kill me?”

“I imagine you got lucky, Father. Or he got careless,” Polly answered immediately with an even tone.

The priest chuckled as if this was the funniest thing he had ever heard.

“No, no. See, I didn’t get lucky. He wasn’t careless either. He’s a smart man, your nephew. No. I was informed of his attempt. Do you know, by any chance, by whom? A fellow man of the cloth. He had heard about it from a little bird in the confessional. I imagine you would know the identity of this little bird, wouldn’t you?”

Polly froze and horror grew inside her. It wasn’t possible. It couldn’t be. She shook her head.

“You’re lying,” she hissed.

The priest calmly looked at her.

“Am I? Well, then tell me who else was aware of the plan?”

She could feel herself growing paler at the second and had to physically restrained herself from grabbing something for support. She tried to look for any other explanation, envisioned every other possibility. There was none. He wasn’t lying. She could still feel the gaze burning straight through her.

“I thought not. Have a good day, Mrs Gray.”

Father Hughes slightly nodded and left with nonchalance. Polly remained frozen in place. She could feel that her body was shaking and she could see that some people were looking strangely at her but she didn’t care. Not when she was the reason why her nephew’s head was currently a fucking jigsaw puzzle. The sound of bells shake her out of her torpor. She blinked a few times and resumed walking towards the hospital. If her steps were more rushed, well, there was none to see that.

When she reached Tommy’s room, she could feel that today was not a particularly good day. Tommy was lying on his bed in his underwear. Eyes shut tight and she could swear that the constant pain lines on his forehead were more pronounced. She approached him quietly and sat down next to him. She waited for him to turn and face her but instead, he reached an unsteady hand towards the bedside table and grabbed a cigarette, wincing when he moved to quickly. She watched him numbly fumble with the lighter before managing to light it. She was still frozen, still couldn’t believe that she was the reason he was in this predicament.

Polly wasn’t one for guilt. She wouldn’t have been able to be in this business if she was but there was a difference between killing some random stranger or some corrupt and disgusting policeman and betraying the trust of her kin, almost killing him in the process for what? Her conscience? She scoffed and reached inside her bag to take out her own cigarettes but stopped when she notice the slight shake of her hands.

“Michael was here earlier,” Tommy said slowly and quietly yet still bearing his innate authority.

His voice brought her back to the present. Michael. Her son. A son whom she had been reunited with thanks to Tommy. Tommy was the reason why they weren’t at the bottom of society anymore. Tommy was the reason why they weren’t hungry anymore, why they had clothes on their back, a house to live in. Tommy was the reason why she had her son, now. She owed him everything. He had never failed her. Yet, she had failed him. She felt a wave of nausea wash over her and her tremblings grew stronger.

Tommy turned his head towards her and frowned. He reached out to grab one of her hands.

“Pol, what is it?” He asked with concern.

“Thomas, what happened to you? I know we never asked but… I’m asking now.” Christ, even her voice was shaking.

Tommy stayed silent for a few minutes. Polly could see the internal debate he was fighting. Should he tell her or not? Why did she want to know? What was wrong with her?

“I went to kill the priest. I, obviously, failed,” he explained simply as if he was talking to a child.

Polly shook her head and rubbed her eyes with her hand.

“Do you know why?” She asked tiredly.

At the question, Tommy’s frown deepened and she feel him search his hazy memories before turning her eyes back to her.

“He knew. Somehow, he knew about the plan. I don’t know how but he did. The only one who were aware of the plan were…”

He stopped and looked straight at her, searching something in her eyes. She forced herself not to flee his inquisitive gaze. She knew the exact moment he connected the dots because his face passed quickly through a myriad of emotions before settling for exhaustion.

“Pol, what did you do?” He inquired at last.

She closed her eyes. Shame burning through her. Shame that only increased when she heard him shift in his bed and gasp in pain.

“Thomas, I’m sorry.” She whispered, at last.

This was wrong. She was Elizabeth Gray. Proud and independent. She never asked for forgiveness… except she did. Just this once, she had to. She felt him squeeze her hand.

“Pol, whatever it is you did. It’s alright, eh?”

Again, with this nonchalance and blatant disrespect for his own safety. Anger was always easier to manage than guilt so she opted for this option.

“Except it isn’t, Thomas!” She exclaimed.

She felt another wave of guilt wash over her, seeing him flinch at the sound of her voice, but she was too far gone to acknowledge it.

“It isn’t alright. You almost died, do you realise that? Worse than that, you could have lost yourself. I can accept that some day, you will do a stupid mistake and pay for it but I cannot accept that I’ll be the one to send you to your grave. You shouldn’t either.”

Tommy remained silent for a long time, breathing heavily through the pain. He remained silent long enough for her anger to recede. She dropped her head in her hands and bit her tongue to stop herself from shouting.

“You’re right,” he added at last, “It’s not alright. But it’s done and what’s done cannot be undone. So live with it because I’ll be fine and we have some business to do.”

_And Amen to that_ , Polly thought bitterly. He was right and she knew it. They had enough enemies, there was no need to make one of herself. There was no need to keep dwelling on it. She made a terrible mistake but it was done and what was done could not be undone.

She could feel Tommy’s gaze fixed on her as if he was reading her thoughts. She took a deep breath, raised her head to meet his stare and smiled.

**Author's Note:**

> So there it is. I am not completely sure that it is in character because Polly is quite a complex character (They all are and that's the beauty of the show!) but I felt like it was necessary to explore what happened between the two episodes and how Polly would feel. Let's face it, if she hadn't been drunk and confessed then Tommy's head would have been fine.
> 
> I also realise that their relationship in the show is quite strained (especially considering that in the next episode she did threaten him to bring down his entire organisation on him if her boy committed a murder that he wanted to commit) which is quite annoying as they seemed quite close in the first seasons. I must admit that I lost some love for Polly when she found Michael and feel like she's quite ungrateful from times to times.
> 
> I am currently rewatching the show and I have so many ideas of things to write. I am very excited!
> 
> Hope you enjoyed it.


End file.
